


Occupational Hazards

by clio



Category: Misaeng - Fandom, incomplete life, 미생
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 07:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2764553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clio/pseuds/clio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Yi is concerned about Baek Ki's burn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Occupational Hazards

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during episode 14.

As part of his training for employment at One International, he had been debriefed on all sorts of occupational hazards that come hand in hand with working at an office. He had to take an online course on ergonomics, been made aware of the possibility of inhaling toner fumes, been cautioned against over stuffing filing cabinets. But somehow, in all of that training, one hazard was overlooked.

There had been no precaution to take, no previous risk to assess. There was no guideline to follow in the situation of your boss throwing a scalding cup of coffee at you.

It stings more than he thought it would. Not that he thought of anything when he stepped forward to shield her with his body. What’s worse, he can’t bring himself to cry out, to grimace, to yell back the way he wants to. To reply that it isn’t his fault his chest is soaked and on fire, just like it isn’t Young Yi’s, just like it isn’t anyone’s except Chief Ma’s. Instead, he keeps his eyes low, clasps his hands in front of him. Breathes.

Young Yi, he can tell, doesn’t even care about Chief Ma anymore, not his words, barely even registers his presence. He can see the worry in her eyes, the tension in her body as she holds herself back from taking some kind of action. He can feel her impatience, can sense her worry, and maybe under different circumstances he would be grateful.

But not now. Now, he just wants to rip off his shirt and string along a pretty set of swears at the top of his voice because it hurts. And he would prefer if Young Yi wasn’t there for that.

But even when Chief Ma finally has the good sense to leave, he can’t breathe easy because there she is, fluttering beside him on the balls of her feet, her hands opening and closing in indecision and uncertainty. As she runs off someplace, he takes the opportunity to check the damage and it is as bad as he imagined.  
Even the slightest brush of the soaked fabric over his raw skin is enough to make him hiss in pain, and he knows that the redness of his chest isn’t a good sign.

She’s back at his side, thrusting napkins in his hand and telling him to at least dry himself off. Her eyes have caught sight of his blistered skin, however, and he has to smile and say that he’s fine against the regret seeping through her features.

It’s her fingers at the edge of his shirt that make him stop, that draw the air from his lungs. He stands rigid and rooted to his spot, half full of worry, half full of confusion. As he looks down at her, he notices the downward turn of her lips, the messiness of her bangs as they crisscross over her forehead and end up in her eyes.

Her fingertips are hesitant as they pull back the edge of his shirt, and he has to clench his jaw to keep from crying out. Baek Ki can feel his heart pounding in his ears, its throbbing and insistent pulsing against his chest, and he’s immediately afraid she’ll find him out, especially with her fingers hovering over his inflamed skin.

“Why did you do it?” she whispers as she looks upon him. Her breath grazes across his chest and he has to shut his eyes.

It hits him then, with stunning clarity, how badly he wants her to touch him, feels the greediness of his flesh to experience her caress, wants to be connected to her—no matter how fleeting. And the strength with which he feels this desire is more jarring than any scalding cup of hot coffee.

And he realizes that his occupation comes with more hazards than he could have ever dreamed.

Her hand lingers in the air, a breath away from the surface of his skin, and he swears—knows it’s true—that the hairs of his body are rising up and trying to reach her. 

And when she does, when she gives in and allows her fingers to land—just a whisper of her fingertips grazing across his chest, his whole body exhales in painful satisfaction. He can feel himself dissolve at her touch and the warmth he feels in his chest has nothing, he’s sure of it, to do with a scalding burn.

"You shouldn't have done it," she admonishes, and when she brings her head up and meets his eyes, their disarming fullness and depth level him entirely. “Why did you do it?” she asks again, and her voice is not so steady.

She’s too close, too enticing, too defenseless, and all he wants to do is take half a step closer and kiss her breathless so she doesn’t ask that question again.

Instead, he breaks the contact, steps out of her reach and sends her another smile, tells her again that he’s fine, that he’ll leave first so that he can at least get himself cleaned up. As he walks away, he feels an unfamiliar shakiness in his knees and a creeping coldness settle in his joints.

He doesn’t see how Young Yi follows him with her eyes, cradles her hand to her chest.

\---

In the restroom he holds up his shirt in dismay. Shaking his head, he shoves it back under the hand dryer although he knows the cause is utterly lost.

“Jang Baek Ki-sshi!”

He spins on his heel by instinct, doesn’t think about his nakedness, until he realizes that it’s Young Yi standing before him. It’s Young Yi who is standing in the men’s restroom, once again, and searching for him.

It’s Ahn Young Yi who doesn’t let her eyes drop below his chin, but who is flushing pink all the same.

It’s just her. And just him. That prickly feeling retuns, the back of his neck tingles with anticpation.

“Baek Ki-sshi,” she says again, taking a brave step forward.

“Young Yi!” he gasps, slipping into an informal tone as he fumbles with his shirt, trying to shield himself from her. “Wha—What are you doing here?” he stutters, back pressed against the wall.

She frowns, presses her lips together, squares her shoulders and marches right up to him, setting the first aid kit down on the counter. “Let me see it,” she says quietly as she begins taking out different ointments and creams from the kit.

“I’m fine,” he insists uneasily from behind his shirt barrier. “You shouldn’t be here, Young Yi-sshi. What if someone comes—?”

And it is like she doesn’t even hear him. Demands again that he let her see.

“Young Yi…” He is ready to launch into another round of protests, when she turns to him with such a frustrated and apologetic expression marring her lovely face that the words just fall away.

“Let me see it,” she demands firmly, and something in her tone makes him give in, knows she won't back down. Slowly, he lowers the shirt covering his body. He finds her eyes, silently waits for instruction. Knows for certain his pink cheeks match hers.

Young Yi nods her head once, takes out some ointment and coats her fingers. Stepping closer, her expression pleads with him to just bear with the pain for a bit, and with as much gentleness as she can muster, she begins to apply the ointment to the burned area.

But it isn’t enough, because he gasps in pain and clutches the edge of the counter.

She quickly apologizes, voice full of remorse, but he waves her off, rights himself again, and grits his teeth. Biting the corner of her mouth, she quickly finishes applying the ointment, her fingers smoothing over the planes of his chest. And even if her touch is accompanied by pain, he still relishes in it, in her so close to him. The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming and yet he can't seem to get his fill.

They are both breathless and embarrassed, and remain silent as she picks up the gauze to dress the burn. There is someting enchanting in the way she moves, the slope of her shoulder, the way her eyes flutter to his every so often. He understands that he should put up more of a protest, should care more about the burn she's dressing, but is wound is no longer a concern. His mind is teetering on the edge of sanity from the closeness of her, the intoxicating and delicate scent of her shampoo hitting his nose, the feel of her touch on his skin. He wants, so badly, to let go and give in, to fall into her and all her loveliness.

And he thinks that there really should be some sort of protocol for this.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly.

"There's no reason for you to be sorry," he responds but not too loudly. Wants to prolong this feeling for as much as possible.

“You’re all done,” she says with a forced smile, smoothes down the edges of the bandage. He decides doesn’t want to play this game anymore. This time he doesn’t care about saying the right thing or maintaining a professional distance or pretending that he views her only as colleague because nothing about them at the moment is platonic or professional.

And he decides he doesn't care that there isn't a manual for this situation.

"Young Yi," he says her name softly, and with hesitating hands, reaches for her. His touch is light as his hands caress her back, tracing over the curves of her spine before settling on her waist. He finds himself fascinated by the feel of her under his fingertips. She doesn't pull away, doesn't step out of his embrace, and it takes everything in him not to bring her closer. 

“Stop caring so much,” she says quietly, her fingertips tracing the edge of the bandage, and this time he does shiver as her breath caresses his bare skin. “Stop getting involved. It’s burdensome to me.”

He laughs, and the unexpected sound finally draws her eyes to his. “That’s all I ever do with you,” he confesses with a sigh. “I’m constantly trying to stop caring. Always trying not to get involved.” Baek Ki finds himself reaching out to her, his hand coming to brush her hair out of her eyes, fingers gently cupping her face. He sees her exhale slowly, her eyes unsure.

“I constantly tell myself to stay still when, in reality, I want to do so much more,” he says softly, his thumb softly stroking her cheek. He gives a little shrug of his shoulders. "As inadequate as I am, I'm here."

And she feels herself crumbling, wants so desperately to fall apart, thinks it might be okay if she does so as long as shes's in his arms.

He's quite sure that even if there isn't a manual, they're probably breaking some sort of rule – that he shouldn't be able to feel her body trembling against him, that her hands definitely shouldn't be resting on his bare stomach – but none of that prevents him from moving closer to her.

Young Yi’s eyes widen, and he can feel the shakiness of her breath against his neck, but the expression on her face is not one of fear or repulsion. He dares to let himself think that maybe, just this once, it would be okay to hope for something more, to break the rules.

Her lips are so sinfully soft and responsive against his own, their cherry taste making him feel dizzy. Sighing, he can’t help but smile against her mouth and think that he should have thrown out the rules and the non-existent manuals a long time ago. It’s a shy kiss, and somehow that makes it all the more perfect. And when she brings her hands timidly up to hold his arms, he finds himself tightening the hold he has on her waist.

“Baek Ki-sshi!” Seok Yul calls out and barges through the restroom door. He stops short when he sees Ahn Young Yi standing, unexpectedly, at one end of the counter and a half-naked Jang Baek Ki at the other. Neither of them are staring at each other. Neither of them are talking.

For all his social savvy, Seok Yul is stunned to silence. He blinks, his eyes traveling back and forth between the pair, notices their flushed faces.

“I’ll be going, then,” Young Yi says before bowing slightly to the both of them and quickly making her exit. She doesn’t see Seok Yul’s look of amazement as she breezes by him and out the door.

Left alone, Seok Yul turns to Baek Ki with an irrepressive grin on his face, amusement glowing in his eyes, a spring in his step.

“Don't,” Baek Ki warns.

“Tsk, I didn’t say anything,” Seok Yul smiles, hands raised in surrender. “Here, a shirt. Ahn Young Yi asked me to go buy you one.” Seok Yul passes the bag over to Baek Ki, who can only accept it with reluctant hands.

“Aye, I’m sorry I walked in,” Seok Yul sighs, shakes his head. “I ruined the timing.”

“Stop.”

“I didn't think you had it in you," Seok Yul teases, clasping a hand on Baek Ki's good shoulder. "And at work––in the men's restroom too! Baek Ki, you dog!”

“Thank you and good bye, Seok Yul-sshi.”

\---

 

Rooftop: Helipad

It has been 10 minutes since he sent the message to Young Yi. 10 minutes that he's spent standing on the rooftop, alone. It's after hours, knows that most of the teams have left for the day, also knows that it has been 9 minutes since she read his message.

He drops his head and grips the hand rail, a frustrated groan leaving his body and disipating with the setting sun. What has he done?

When he first got word that he'd been accepted as an intern at One International, he had been over the moon. And that day, when he was at the gym and received the message that he'd been hired to be a regular employee, he felt confident that everything would work out as expected. He'd continue on the Resources team, he'd be the acknowledged hot shot of his peers, he'd rise through the ranks, he would be great.

He never imagined that he would meet someone like Ahn Young Yi. That he would be so affected by her. That he would find himself thinking of her as often as he does, that he would want to protect her as much as he does, that, after having kissed her, he would spend the rest of the day consumed by the memory of her lips against his.

He sighs once more. Why did no one warn him of the greatest occupational hazard? The biggest danger to his personal and professional success?

"Baek Ki-sshi." He jumps at finding she has joined him on the roof. Turning towards her, he finds her wearing that same pleasant smile on her face that she always hid behind. Treating him as she always did.

"How are you feeling?" she nods to his upper torso but doesn't approach him. Has her hands clasped behind her back. Her tone is light, "Any better?"

"It will be fine. Thank you," he replies quickly, not wanting to waste time talking about irrelevant things. Not when he's concerned about her retreating behind her wall. When he wants to know why she kissed him back. He swears she kissed him back. But he can't ask that. And with a sinking heart, he worries that maybe he got the wrong impression, that maybe he took advantage of her vulnerability.

"This is nice," Young Yi clears her throat, takes up the conversation and gestures to their surroundings. "I've never been up here before. It's––"

"Did I take advantage of the situation?" he interrupts her with the question that had been on his mind all day, winces at his lack of tact and the desperation apparent in his voice. And he realizes that he really doesn't have the basics down afterall. "Did you––were you feeling grateful?"

She's clearly stunned by his words, avoids his gaze. "Yes, of course I was feeling grateful."

Baek Ki deflates. Just deflates. He closes his eyes, feels like the world is closing in on him. Of course. Those few moments of bliss, of feeling expansive and so incredibly full, of the much hoped for happiness, he feels slipping through his fingers. Of course. "Right. Okay, well.. I'm sorry to have burdened you, Young Yi-sshi," he says with a professionalism he doesn't quite feel. He tosses her a smile, "I-It won't happen again."

"Baek Ki-sshi," she calls out to him in a voice so calm he can't help but think about how unfair it is. He took a risk, and it blew up in his face. As his eyes find hers, now closer than she was, staring up at him with all her beauty and charm, he hates that he was so unprepared for this most dangerous of situations.

"I just want to check something," she says, her expression guarded. "Some research, if you will."

He waits for her to say something, do something, to finish the thought. "What is––"

She steps forward, rises on the tips of her toes and kisses him gently, her hands on his shoulders careful not to agitate his burn. He feels all his helplessness leave him, drain from his body with the touch of her lips––tastes completeness.

She breaks the kiss, steps back. "Okay," she says a little breathlessly. "Thank you for your assistance, Baek Ki-sshi." Young Yi spins on her heel, ready to go.

"Wait!" he reaches for her hand, stops her from leaving him so confused and unsatisfied. "I don't understand," he has no pride around her, doesn't care about images. He doesn't know whether to hope or not, but all of him, despite himself, is trembling at the thought that she might feel something for him after all.

She's nervous again, won't meet his eyes, fidgets with her hands. "You asked me if I was feeling grateful, and I was. But I just wanted to check if I was only feeling grateful."

He feels everything hang in his next question. In her response. "And?"

"A-And...this is a bad idea," she whispers in the rising darkness.

A moment, and he smiles. Stepping closer, he brings his hand to her face. Tucks some hair behind her ear. Young Yi gasps but doesn't pull away. "I agree," he whispers back.

"Great. So," she breathes as he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. She brings her hands to his chest. "We both agree."

"Yes. Too risky." He grins out of bliss, her words stem from being worried and cautious, from trying to be responsible, from trying to be professional. Not because she only feels regret. Not because she doesn't care about him.

"I think so, too." And all her protests feel like flimsy excuses.

He nods his head. Smiles a smile that she feels in her knees. "Young Yi-sshi, may I kiss you now?"

"Sure. I guess that would be nice."

They told him to be careful of sitting too long, of typing too much. To be wary of the coffee machine and papercuts. They told him to be careful of his back, and where to go in case of emergencies. But they never warned against something so precarious, never informed him to guard his heart.

But, as Young Yi melts into his embrace, as every fiber of his being soaring at her touch, he decides some occupational hazards are well worth the risk.


End file.
